


The Winter Soldier And The Housewife

by TheFireInHerEyes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 1950s, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst and Drama, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), F/M, Fake Marriage, False Identity, False Memories, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kidnapping, Possession, Possessive Behavior, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protectiveness, Romance, Stockholm Syndrome, Yandere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:22:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23193919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFireInHerEyes/pseuds/TheFireInHerEyes
Summary: He couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t help the base desires that had taken a hold on him, consumed him. He wanted a family, he wanted to return to a time that wasn’t so warped and twisted by the generation who lacked the knowledge of real courage and strength.He wanted to be selfish, like Steve.He didn’t think it would work, but with a little help from the God of mischief, and a little freedom gained, he had done it.And now he had his own slice of happiness.He had staked out his own paradise with a white picket fence and a swing on the front porch. He had a little wife to come home to after a long day of work. He was seen as a war-hero and he was revered.And you, his darling little housewife, had no idea. Your memories had been altered, the past which had become your present, was altered.And Bucky had you all to himself.“For better or for worse, darling.”
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers & Reader
Comments: 15
Kudos: 179





	1. Prologue

His almost icy blue eyes were fixed in a heavy gaze as he watched his darling walked from one room to another. The finely made dress you wore was one of his favorites, and a personal request from him had guaranteed that it was on your body.

The fine pearl buttons in the back held the emerald lace around your frame, the waist tucked and tailored to accentuate your generous and tempting curves. As he was appreciating the shape of your waist, his eyes moved down from the pearl buttoned back, down the shape of your waist to the sight of your legs.

He remembered the future, the sexualization of women, but this sight that beheld him was more exotic than any strip of future lace lingerie.

The stockings that covered your bare legs were begging to be pulled off inch by inch. The silky nylons covering your legs, the tea length of the dress that hid the curve of your backside was drawing Bucky in with each sashay of the tulle, the underlay set under the green lace.

“Darling,” Bucky crooned as he stood up, glass of whiskey in his hand, “you’re so beautiful.”

He straightened his suit, the dark blue jacket and matching pants was hardly the only difference between the future and the past he made your present. It was just a nice layer added to the chaos you were unaware of, the chaos that gave Bucky exactly what he needed; what he deserved.

He was a hero in this…world. He was a celebrated hero who sacrificed his arm for the betterment of the world. He was the brave sergeant the east coast fell in love with on his return from war.

James Buchanan Barnes was a hero.

He deserved his happy ending, he deserved you.

“I’m the luckiest man, Mrs. Barnes.” He smirked wickedly into the kiss he placed against your lips.

If only you had knew what he did to get you here.


	2. Part 1

“Obsession is a commitment; you have to believe in it, because it soon takes you over.” - Lennard J. Davis

\---

Obsession was a side affect, they warned him. 

Obsession was a sign that he was healing, that his mind was on the mend. 

If Bucky was truly getting back to his old self, healing from what Hydra had done, his mind would find the healthiest desire and want seeded deep inside him, and it would overtake him. 

It was healthy they said. There was no reason for concern. 

Bucky Barnes was on the mend, they said. 

If only they had known how deeply rooted and twisted his obsession was. If only they had known that behind every well built wall, every impenetrable veil, was the true and dark desire to create his own personal heaven. 

If only the scientists and doctors, psychologists and therapists knew what Bucky was planning. 

If they knew what he wanted, if they knew what got his blood pumping and his cock throbbing, they never would’ve handed her to him. 

It was their fault, really. 

They gave you to him. 

And he was never letting you go. 

\---

“Good morning sleepy head!” He watched from under the veiled protection of his blankets and thin pillow as you walked into his private room, under the direction of Tony. 

You were meant to be one member of Bucky's support team. 

You were meant to make sure he was eating and drinking enough water, waking up at a decent time. 

You were one member of a whole team of people to help Bucky get better. Steve had arranged it and Steve had done it out of the goodness of his heart. 

No one knew that the little things you had done for Bucky, the odds and ends of favors and assistance, would lead to this point. No one would’ve seen the seed of obsession get planted deep inside him. 

No one would know that when you were helping Bucky by organizing a schedule for him, when you were checking on him late at night, that his mind continuously went to a darker place. 

“Bucky?” Your voice was sweet, tender and caring.

While you may have grown to care for Bucky as a friend, he had grown in his delusion that you were meant to be his. You had to be his, it had to be fate. 

“I’m awake.” He spoke huskily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Well today you have a full schedule. So up.” Your bright smile, infectious and innocent in nature, sent blood rushing to his cock. 

In this moment he slipped from reality, into the fantasy he couldn't stop thinking about. He allowed himself to replace the shit he didn't like, with the trappings of his ideal world. 

And in his ideal world, you were his wife. You were his little housewife. In this ideal world, things had went back to the era he wanted. 

Gone was the increasing technological advances. Gone were the times of social media takeover and the influences who angered him. 

In his fantasy, it was you and him. 

In his fantasy, it was you in a silk dress with your hair curled and pinned back. In his world, it was you with a diamond ring on your finger and his seed dripping down your legs as you greet the neighbors with a friendly smile. 

In his fantasy, Bucky was a war hero who had it all. He was the man he wanted to be, and you were the woman he got to screw into the marriage bed every night. 

“You’re killing me doll.” He groaned into his left hand as his right hand squeezed the growing bulge in his sweats. 

“Yeah, yeah. Tell me again how I'm being a hard ass on you.” Your soft and faint chuckle made the head of his cock twitch. 

The fantasy he was feeding into was slipping ahead of reality.   
The clinking of glasses and soft laughter, the feeling of your hand in his and his artificial arm wrapped around your waist. 

The retelling of war stories were he conveyed his bravery to his old war buddies. And when he would look at you with the deeply seeded desire, you wouldn't turn away. But rather you would kiss him affectionately with your red stained lips, and he would possessively squeeze your waist. 

“Doll,” he grunt as he thrust his cock into his hands, “what the hell are you doing here so early?” 

He always woke up hard when he knew it would be you coming to wake him up. It never failed, it never would. 

“It's not early, Mr. Barnes.” You opened the curtains, the sound of the metal rings on the curtain rod making him flinch. “And you have a full day ahead of you.” 

He'd be a salesman. Or an accountant. Something that would allow him to drape you in diamonds. 

On the first anniversary you would share, he'd have you on his bed wearing nothing but a heavy diamond necklace, maybe inscribed with his initial as a symbol that you were his or maybe you'd just be wearing your wedding ring. 

“Your clothes are on the vanity in the bathroom, there's a towel left out for you. Your coffee is on the table with your usual boring breakfast.” You moved as you spoke and Bucky watched you with every step. 

He watched the curve of your ass through the tight jeans you wore taunting him. With every sway of your hips, Bucky felt his heart and blood pumping. 

You were teasing him, putting on a show just for him. The way your hips moved as you walked, the way your ass just begged to be squeezed and smacked as he fucked you from behind. God, what Bucky wouldn't give to feel your tight little walls squeezing his cock as your squealed in pleasure. 

“Thanks, doll.” He could hardly speak. He needed to spill his seed to this fantasy he had of you. 

“You’re welcome, Mr. Barnes. I like helping you.” When you flashed a smile, when you promised to check on him later, Bucky felt as if he was holding his breath. 

He waited until the door had clicked again, and you were gone, before he ripped the blankets off of him, and exposed his throbbing cock. 

“Mr. Barnes,” he grunt as he yanked on his swollen head, “you little fucking minx.” 

He closed his eyes and drifted back to the fantasy. He pictured your hand, your mouth, you pushy coating his cock. Anything but his own hand. 

He pictured you in some trashy 50's lingerie grinding your clothed, dripping slit against the head of his cock while whispering in his ear how badly you wanted him. He pictured your breasts, full and heavy, rubbing against his chest. 

“You’re my little wife.” Bucky squeezed his cock harder, dragging his metal hand up and down the throbbing member as he pleasured himself. “Y/N Barnes, my little harlot.” 

The fantasy was becoming too much. In his head, your moans and whispers, your whines and begs for Bucky to fill you up, to spill his seed and fill your fertile womb, was becoming too much. 

“OH God!” he grunt and raised his hips, he dig his nails into the pillow beside him as his white hot seed spurt from the head of his cock. “You are mine, Y/N. You’re gonna be my wife.” 

As the high took over him, as it filled him with the best pleasure he had ever known, Bucky knew. 

He knew what he had to do to get what he wanted. And whether you wanted it or not it would happen. 

You would be the future Mrs. Y/N Barnes.


	3. Part 2

He couldn't be entirely sure when the part of him that harbored feelings for you had morphed into a deep seeded obsession. He couldn't mark the minute, the hour or the day when he was unable to be swayed away from his desire.

It happened quickly, had hit him like a freight train.

Maybe it was the first time he saw you in tiny little boots shorts, the black spandex wrapped around your hips and the curve of your ass.

Maybe it was the time your hand brushed against his bare shoulder after a workout, fingertips dragging along the scar that separated his flesh from the artificial limb on his left side.

Or maybe, even more than that, his obsession stemmed from the hours you would spend doing little favors for him to make his adjustment easier. The kindness you showed him, the gentleness as you talked him back from entering the dark space in his mind.

Others would claim that it was you just doing your job. Steve would tell Bucky that he was out of his mind, that Bucky was putting too much stock into things that we43n't there.

Bucky knew better. He knew different.

He knew the truth. And he knew that you were the perfect woman for him.

He had been stripped of so much from the war, from his years and decades in Hydra suffering and killing. He had no chance to experience love and happiness.

He never had the chance to have the American dream.

He never had the opportunity to have the white picket fence in a good neighborhood. He never got the life he deserved. The housewife, the little baby with his eyes and his wife’s nose, the backyard stretching onto a beautiful park, a family dog.

Bucky deserved it. He deserved it all because he had been to hell and back for his country, for the people who sought to torture and maim him.

He deserved it. He deserved you.

\---

“Tell me about your date.” Liz's quietly whispered in the communal kitchen while sipping on her liquid gold.

The coffee in your own cup was much sweeter than Liz's, but your lack of fondness for black coffee was no surprise. Your sweet tooth was not limited to coffee and other drinks, but rather it extended to other sweets like chocolate, candy gummies and baked goods.

“He was…sweet.” Your hesitancy to answer Liz was caused by the very man who intimidated you more than any other.

While it was your job to look after Bucky and assist him in almost all his daily routines. Your intimidation didn't come from the tasks you were given, but the man himself. Bucky Barnes, although harmless, was frightening.

Knowing what he had done, what he could do, had terrified you. The power behind his every move, the skill he acquired through years of calculated and precise, untraceable assassinations, frightened you.

To avoid his anger, to stay his possibly hidden rage, you kept your mood bright and friendly. You went above and beyond in hopes that you would never catch him on a bad day.

“Sweet? Ugh.” Liz groaned before taking a sip of her black coffee. “Boring.”

Your date may have been boring, it may not have been as exciting as you would’ve hoped, but boring was safe. Boring was normal.

And given all that had happened, all that you were surrounded by, boring was exactly what you needed.

As she lowered her cup, she turned and faced the hulking captain and one of the first avengers with a, teeming on fake, smile.

“Good morning!” Like you, Liz did her best not to piss off the captain. Though her task was much easier than yours.

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes.” You bit your tongue, hid the frown that nearly slipped out when Bucky's steely eyes were laser focused in on you.

“Told you Y/N,” Steve rubbed his hand over his face, removing the sleep from the corner of his eyes, “call Buck and I by our first names.”

You hesitated a minute and then gave you reply in an awkward way. “No offense Cap, but its all a matter of respect. I mean you may not look like you’re over a hundred years old but you are. And I feel a little weird calling you by your first names.”

“It's all a matter of respect.” Bucky drew your attention to himself, the tug of a heavy smile on his lips had you shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“Yeah…” You tapped your finger against the side of your disposal coffee cup. “Something like that…”

You couldn't quite look at Bucky, couldn't quite handle the way he was looking at you like you were prey and he was a predator on the hunt ready to strike you down.

Maybe you had noticed it all this time, and maybe it was just the last few days that his behavior had struck you as odd. But there was something dark about Bucky, something dangerous that was on the edge of rearing its head.

Steve seemed oblivious, no one else had raised any concerns but you…couldn't stop feeling like you were in danger in his presence. You couldn't stop the shaky feeling that Bucky wanted something from you that you couldn’t, wouldn't offer.

“It's all in your head.” You mumbled under your breath and cleared your throat.

You had to believe that it was all in your head.

“I have to...uh…I have to go speak to Tony about my internship. He wants to know where I’m at with my sociology degree and my last term paper.” You set the cup down and stepped away from Liz and Steve and Bucky.

You could feel his blue eyes watching you as you slipped toward the exit of the communal kitchen. His steely blue eyes that you once thought were beautiful and captivating now made your stomach churn and your hands shake.

It was your job to look after Bucky, to help him adjust and heal. But if he kept looking at you the way he was in such a calculating way, if he didn't stop making you feel like his own personal target, you would have to request working with a different avenger.

After all, you weren’t being paid enough to be stared at like a piece of steak on a platter for a lion.

\---

Bucky clenched his fists with enough strength to break the metal rod he was holding in two. He grit his teeth, his shoulders rolling back as he backed himself down from the red hot rage bubbling in him, ready to explode.

“You're troubled.” Loki crooned mockingly as he stood behind the impenetrable cage he was kept in for the second time, in the same tower. “I can help you.”

Bucky squeezed his hands, the metal held in his palm crunching and contouring, twisting into something unnatural. When he dropped the pipe to the floor, it clattered and the sound rang out from the small room Loki was kept in.

“You know nothing about me.” He spoke calculatedly as he took one step toward the series of panels keeping Loki locked in.

“I know everything I need to know.” Loki made a motion to the left, to the camera that was watching the both of them.

Without needing another word, Bucky pushed the few buttons needed to cut and erase the feed, leaving the air of them without eyes watching them.

“All you need to do is let me out.” Loki pressed his hand against the impenetrable clear screen. “I can give you everything you need, everything you want.”

The desire, the dark and twisted obsession with finding his happiness, with achieving everything he deserved, was taking over the logic. He wanted you, he wanted a life with you.

“Y/N can be yours, Barnes. A life all to yourselves.” Loki stepped away from the edge of the cell and slowly stalked around the edge as he spoke. “You can finally get the recognition you deserve. Your happy ending, the American dream mortals of your time had desired for years.”

The fantasy could become a reality; his reality. You could be his wife, you could be the mother of his children. You could be the happiness that should’ve been rewarded to him.

“If I give you the freedom you want…” Bucky hesitated.

If he did this, there was no going back. There would be no returning. Everyone he had known, been allies with in this time, in this year, would be his enemy. They would never stop trying to find him, never stop trying to find you.

“You have my word, Barnes. Set me free, give me the tesseract, and you will have an entire universe fit to your needs.” Loki spoke slowly, trusting Bucky as much as he had to trust him.

Days, weeks, months of planning had all come down to this. It was his choice, he could give Loki what he wanted and unleash him from the cage to receive his comeuppance or he could walk away and let his obsessions drive him mad.

The risk he took by spending countless hours tracking down the tesseract, risking his very life to find the object that would sway Loki to give him his happiness.

Even he was briefly surprised that he managed to pull it off.

“I’ve seen what you desire, Barnes. I've seen all you have wanted for, desired. There is no happy ending for you in this universe. Your little obsession will grow and in time, L/N will taken from you, stowed away and hidden from your reach. However, if you give me what I want, by the time they find you, by the time they are able to find you, it will be too late for L/N.” Loki was making a promise that Bucky wouldn't be able to turn down.

“L/N will be conditioned to you. L/N will never be able to be separated from you again.” Loki rest his hand back against the clear cage.

His fantasy was within his reach.

“Unlock the cage, Barnes. Give me the tesseract.” Bucky couldn’t stop himself.

He did what he had to do; what he wanted to do.

As the door swung open and the God of mischief walked out of the cell, as the alarms blared throughout the room, alerting the avengers to Loki's escape, to what Bucky had done, he felt no guilt.

He felt no guilt as he handed over the tesseract, he felt no remorse as Loki smiled like the devil himself.

“Happiness,” Loki boasted, “is now yours Barnes.”


	4. Part 3

The Winter Soldier And The Housewife: Part 3

Warnings: This series will contain elements of dark!Bucky that may make some people uncomfortable. Please, if you are not comfortable with dark!Bucky please do not read this series. This series is also going to be for mature audiences only. Please abide by that.

—

“Tony, you have a guest.” He tapped the opaque image that had popped up on my screen, the video footage of one of his interns standing outside his office door had raised a few minor concerns with the billionaire genius.

Of the few young female interns they had, you were one of the brightest and best. Your wit was only outmatched by your ability to shift through all the nonsensical bullshit that sometimes came with the job.

You were on your way to a promising career as a sociologist, and with Tony’s bright recommendation that you would receive at the end of the year, you could have the world at your fingertips.

Your assigned avenger was a rather prickly bastard at times, and Tony’s hesitancy at assigning you to Barnes was still felt. He was still unsure if he had made the right choice, but after witnessing first hand how far Barnes had come under your direction and with your assistance, the hesitancy faded.

Slightly.

“Let Y/N in, Friday.” Tony discarded EDITH on the tabletop and stood as the door swung wide open.

“Hey Mr.-“ you cleared your throat. “Tony, can I talk to you?” The way you shift your weight from foot to foot, the way you picked at the dirt under your nails told Tony all he needed to know.

“Scotch?” he tapped the wood lid on his hidden bar, and the selection of premium alcohol came into view. He grabbed his favorite and well used bottle of the rich golden spirit and offered it out to you.

“I’m not a fan of whiskey or scotch.” You thanked him as honestly and gratefully as you could.

“Right, kid. You like schnapps and tequila.” Tony lift the glass to his lips and sipped on the rather potent spirit before tilting his head slightly. “What’s going on, kid?”

A heavy sight was followed by your hand rubbing down the side of your face. You were uncomfortable, looked uncomfortable as you inched forward.

“I’m grateful for everything you’ve done and the amazing opportunity to have this internship.”

Tony moved while you spoke, coming to sit back behind his desk. He set the glass down, placed his EDITH glasses back on his face, and propped his feet back up on the desk.

“But…” He raised an eyebrow and waited for you to finish.

“Well the thing is…Mr. Barnes makes me feel…” You bit the inside of your cheek.

“Kid, did something happen? Did Barnes try any shit on you?” Tony started tapping on his keyboard, bringing up your file and the file of Barnes.

“No! No, God no.” You shook your head, thinking about what to say next. “He just makes me a little uncomfortable. It’s like he’s watching me. Studying me. It's…unnerving.”

Tony watched you sit on one of the chairs in front of the desk, your knee bouncing as you’re the heel of your foot tapped rhythmically against the wood floors. Your hands were made busy by fiddling with the zipper on the side of your sweater dress.

“Barnes is an ex-assassin. I’m sure he doesn’t mean to unnerve or make you uncomfortable. I’ve made sure that both he and the Cap knows that if he fucks up, he’s back under cryo.” Tony tapped on the opaque screen in front of him, moving past the security measures into the intern database.

“And he’s not rude. He’s actually very sweet. He’s never threatened me in any way. But he’s just…” Tony understood.

“If you’re no longer comfortable working with Barnes and he’s making you feel uneasy, you don’t have to do this. Il assign you to another avenger.” Tony wasted no time in removing your name from the list of people assisting Barnes, and had reassigned you to Maximoff.

“Thank you, Tony.” The relief on your face when you had seen your name removed from the list of people working for Barnes was more than concerning for Tony.

Was there more to it than Barnes just watching you? Tony had made observations from other countries that had been working with the restoration of minds and the rehabilitation of people like Barnes, and in most cases, there was a streak of obsession.

Perhaps Barnes had found himself obsessed about a person instead of an object? Or an activity?

“Kid, do you feel unsafe with Barnes? Has he…given you any reason to believe that he may want to be involved with you?” Tony would be damned if Barnes had crossed the line with any of the interns.

“What? No, Tony. No. Mr. Barnes has been nothing but polite and kind. I just find the way he watches me…odd.” Despite your reassurance, Tony made a note to have Friday watch you and Barnes.

If there were signs that something was amiss, maybe Tony could prevent anything from happening.

“Okay, kid.” Tony took another sip of his scotch. “Get back out there. Your new avenger is Maximoff. I think you’ll get along.”

Tony dismissed you, he watched you stand and unlike when you had entered, it looked like fifty pounds of weight was taken off your shoulders.

Before leaving, you turned and opened your mouth to thank him again for everything he had done. Before you could utter a syllable, a shrieking, piercing alarm rang out throughout the tower.

“Tony Loki has escaped.” FRIDAY’s calm automated voice broke through the alarm just briefly enough to be heard.

“What’s going on?” you clamped your hands over your ears, crouching before the door.

Tony extended his hand and had effectively suited up, addressing you as calmly as he could. “Stay in here kid, Loki’s escaped. FRIDAY secure the door after I leave.”

—

The screeching, the howling and shrieking alarm went on for what felt like hours. The piercing noise and flashing red light in the room was agonizing. Every moment that passed with the alarm blaring, was a step closer toward, what felt like, your point of insanity.

When it finally stopped, when you felt like it was all over, you stood on your feet, your hands and legs shaking. You peered around the room slowly, hoping to see Tony standing somewhere in the expansive office.

“Shit…” You turned and placed your hand on the door, the thick metal security door sliding away to reveal the normal wood.

You placed your hand upon the handle and turned, pushing the door open slowly. You poked your head out of the office first, and then stepped out.

The entire floor seemed quiet, far too quiet, but since the alarm had stopped that must’ve meant that Loki was caught. Right?

“Tony? Pepper? Nat?” you took one step and then another. “Anyone?”

A door opened behind you, the sound of the handle hitting the wall making you whip around. Standing in the middle of the hall was Barnes, a rifle in one hand and a tactical knife in the other.

“Y/N? What the hell are you doing up here?” Barnes had shoved the knife back in its sheath, and in no time at all, had crossed the distance to stand before you.

“I was talking with Tony. I was…Loki escaped. We should… where is everyone? Oh God…” Your voice wavered and shook.

“Hey doll, it’s okay.” He carefully set the rifle down on the floor, and placed his hands on your shoulders. “I’m here, okay. I’ll keep you safe.”

The dark message behind the word ‘safe’ was not lost on you. If you had more time you would’ve focused on the way he fixated on you, on the tremble of you bottom lip.

If you were thinking clearly, you would’ve listened to the way your heart was racing, you’re your stomach churning and your mind screaming at you to run, to turn and never look back.

“Barnes-“ Bucky stepped closer, a dangerous and predatory smile on his face as he gripped your waist with his right hand.

You had no time to pull away. You felt immense pain ripping through your skull as your mind began to go blank. You dug your nails into Bucky’s arms as you felt like your body was being ripped into a million pieces.

“You’re going to be okay, baby. I’m here now. I’ll take care of you.” With blood on his artificial hand that you hadn’t noticed before, Bucky cooed softly, as he swiped his metal thumb across your bottom lip, the blood staining your flesh. “We’re going to be so happy together.”


	5. Part 4

1949 – Brooklyn, New York

“You look beautiful.” The compliment was whispered in your ear as his arms snaked around your waist. “Every inch of you.”

The compliment was met with a gentle nip to your neck, his hands moved to your hips. As he pushed his chest to your back and held you flush against him, he kissed his way down your neck .

Your head fell back to his shoulder and your eyes drifted closed as you sighed under his touch and his kiss. Every inch of you was coming to life as he stroked your hip bones through your party dress.

“Bucky…I have to get ready.” You placed your own hands over his to push them off, to finish getting ready for the party he insisted you go to.

“We have lots of time, doll.” He nipped your earlobe playfully.

“We’re going to be late…” Your protests shifted to a low moan when Bucky started to undo the buttons on the front of your dress.

His right hand slipped in the opening of the bust of the dress, his hand grabbing and squeezing your left breast through the silky bra you chose to wear. As he squeezed your breast, as he drew another moan from your lips, his left hand had worked its way under the bottom, his metal fingertips brushing against your stockings.

“Bucky…we’re going to be late.” Your faint and weak protest fell on his deaf ears.

“We have time.” Bucky’s voice grew huskier, deeper as he squeezed your breast and stroked your thigh. “Let me in, doll.”

You spread your legs without protest and moaned his name as he rolled your hardened nipple batten his fingertips. You could feel his breath caressing your shoulder sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Good girl.” He moved the shoulder of your dress down, kissing the exposed skin as he removed the layer of satin. “You’re already wet aren’t you?”

You were unable to answer, not unwilling but unable. Your words became gasps and whines, moans as he stroked your thighs. You wanted him to touch you, you wanted him to stroke the part of you that was desperate to feel his fingers filling you.

“B-Bucky…” You dug your nails into his arms and rolled your hips against the hand that was on your thigh in desperation. “Please…”

He smirked against your shoulder, his metal hand slipping underneath the panties covering your swollen and dripping heat. It was natural, only natural to be soaked around Bucky.

It seemed that everything he did turned you on.

“You’re dripping, my love.” He used two fingers to stroke your swollen pussy lips. “You want me to touch you? To push my fingers inside your tight little cunt?”

You gasped and whined, pushed your hips against his hand. The way he spoke into your ear, the crass words he used to describe your dripping heat was delectable instead of detestable. He was so skilled in everything he did, every action and stroke of his fingers was already enough to make you cum.

“You have to tell me baby.” He crooned in your ear, halting the motion his hands were making on your body.

“Yes, Bucky.” You turned your head and locked eyes with your fiancé, your hero. “Touch me, Bucky. Make me fell good.”

He closed the distance, he captured your lips in a breathing stealing kiss. As his lips moved against yours, his thick fingers slipped between your swollen pussy lips. Slowly, tantalizingly and agonizingly slow, his two fingers sank into your heat, stretched your walls.

You pulled away from the kiss and moaned his praise. The feeling of being stretched on the cool metal of his artificial hand was blissful, pleasurable.

“I’ll make you feel good, baby.” He pinched and pulled on your left nipple before removing his hand entirely from your breast.

He moved his hand to your neck, holding your jaw softly in his hand as he made you look into the dressing mirror in front of you. The pad of his thumb had stroked your jaw bone with the same gentle nature that he stroked the back of your hand when holding it.

It was an act of dominance, the way he held you, the way he made you look at yourself as he finger fucked you, but it was gentle. He wasn’t rough, wasn’t a bastard bent of dominating you through harsh actions and punishments, but with a gentle reminder that he was your fiancé; he was in charge.

“Look at yourself, baby.” He cooed in your ear as he twist his metal fingers that had sunk into your heat. “Look at yourself while I fuck you with my fingers.”

You did, you followed his direction and you looked at yourself. Bucky was flush behind you, his right hand wrapped around your neck and his left hand beneath the hem of your dress.

His deep brown hair was cropped shorter than it had been lately and styled effortlessly. His steely blue eyes were a shade darker with last and passion, his lips formed into an almost predatory smirk.

“Bucky…” You writhed and gasped, arched your back as he added another finger. “God…Bucky…”

He pumped his fingers in and out of your stretched pussy, his thumb stroking and teasing your hardened clip. Each stroke of his cool metal against your clip and the pumping of his fingers was bringing you closer to the edge.

“Look at yourself as you cum on my fingers.” He nipped your neck, tightened his hand ever so slightly around your neck. “Look at you darling, you’re going to come undone on my fingers.”

You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. You couldn’t turn away as you writhed and jerked your hips against his palm, your toes curling as building orgasm hit you.

You gasped and whined, moaned his name like a prayer on Sunday as your pussy walls squeezed his metal fingers. The immense pleasure made your curl your toes, made you see stars.

“You’re such a good girl, Y/N.” He encouraged you, he urged you on even as your cum dripped from your pussy lips onto the plush carpet below you. “You’re my little harlot aren’t you?”

Bucky pumped his fingers two more times before slowly pulling his fingers from your dripping slit. As he pulled his hand from under your dress, he let go of your neck and instead wrapped that arm around your waist.

“Yes, Bucky.” When he placed his metal fingers against his lips, you found yourself mystified as he sucked your cum off the metal, and moaned.

—

“You’re so lucky!” The pretty redhead you and Bucky had attended the party with had leaned over to speak in a raised whisper. “Look at him. He’s so dreamy.”

You cast a glance her way, noticing the shade of red lip Rouge matched the dress she wore. “Who?”

Dot, was her name, and she was the steady gal Bucky’s war buddy was going with. Her red hair was pinned behind her head in an solid 1940’s fashion, the tight curls bouncy.

“Bucky!” she laughed lightly and pinched your arm. “I mean he’s just so….”

You turned away from Dot and focused on back on Bucky. Since the events earlier in the night, not only had your legs still felt like jelly, but you could almost swear that you still felt your own sticky cum pasted between your thighs.

“You are one in a million, Y/N. Landing a handsome war-hero like Bucky. He’s so charming and charismatic. And his eyes…”

You felt uncomfortable with the way Dot was speaking about Bucky. It wasn’t envy, nor was it worry that Dot was after your man, but there was something unsettling there.

“I mean he won the purple heart for bravery and sacrifice. He’s a true, national hero.” Dot sighed again, and stared wistfully at her own date.

“Did I tell you that Bucky and I went on a date before the war?” Dot twirled a few strands of your curls around her finger. “Bucky went with this tiny guy from Brooklyn. Steve, I think his name was. We went to Coney Island and had the best time.”

A stab of jealousy and envy finally hit you. Bucky went on a date with Dot before the war. He went to one of the best places in New York with the woman you were sitting next to, and the image of him kissing her in a dim alley was maddening.

You were envious, jealous.

“Doesn’t matter now though. Bucky only has eyes for you. I swear I’ve never seen a man look at a woman like that before.” Dot placed her hand on your arm. “He looks at you like you’re his whole world.”

Your attention shifted from Dot, to Bucky. Your handsome fiancé, your war-hero, was leaning against the bar with a drink in one hand and the other shoved into the pockets of his deep blue suit.

His steely blue eyes were watching you, so completely focused on you, it had seemed if the whole world had faded and you were the only thing remaining and the only person that mattered.

As you stared and watched him watch you, Bucky set his glass down and straightened himself up. He pushed himself off the bar and strode toward you and Dot, his eyes still locked on you.

Your breath was bated and you were unable to turn away, even as he came to stand in front of you with his hand extended.

“Dot, I’m gonna steal my best girl from you.” He teased and winked as he yanked you from your seat, pulling you into his chest.

“You go ahead, Bucky. Y/N needs to be shown a good time.” Dot giggled softly as she waved her hand in dismissal.

Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist and lead you to the crowded dance floor. As he came to stand in front of you, he slid his metal arm around your waist, and held your hand with the other.

“Enjoying yourself, doll?” Bucky held you close, whispered just for you.

“Of course I am, Bucky.” You leaned into him, relaxed into his warmth.

“New Years Eve.” He slid his hand down to the small of your back. “New decade and a new chapter of our lives, baby.”

You looked into his blue eyes, looked into the blue pools that drug you further down. He was handsome, like Dot had proclaimed many times, and you were lucky.

Bucky was yours, and you were his.

“We’re getting married in a month.” Bucky spoke with pride.

He slipped his hand from yours, keeping his metal hand at your back, and rest his palm against your stomach. Heat penetrated through your dress and into your flesh, warming you from head to toe. “And then we can give you a baby.”

Marriage. A baby. Bucky.

“I can’t wait to see you pregnant.” He tightened his hold on you, rubbed his hand over your stomach with glee.

Marriage.

A baby.

Bucky.


	6. Part 5

Tony stared at the screen in front of him with guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders. He should’ve done more, he should’ve taken your word more seriously, he should’ve check in on Barnes more often.

“This isn’t your fault, Tony.” He had heard it from all of them, every single one of the people standing in his office right now.

He had heard it from every single one, and not an ounce of their reassurance that he was not to blame, eases his conscious. He thought, he couldn’t stop thinking, about how his inaction that cost another young life, when it could’ve been prevented.

By him.

“Do we have-“ he rubbed his temples and fought to control his bubbling rage. “Do we have any idea where he could’ve taken her? And Barnes?”

They had a series of checks in place. This shouldn’t have happened in the first place, they had checks and balances. This shouldn’t have happened to you.

“Tony-” he slammed his fist on the wooden desk, his rage cracking the very fragile wall used to contain it.

“Not another god dammed word from you, Rogers!” Tony more than raised his voice at the one person he thought he could really lash out at.

“This was your guy! Your pal! And this…” He shook his head and slammed his fist down on the table again, and then again.

“I didn’t have any involvement in this Tony. I had no idea-“ Steve tried to defend himself, but Tony wouldn’t hear it.

“Barnes was your guy! Before we even started this intern program we had put in place the measures to keep our interns safe. And you-” Tony stepped away from the desk and turned his back.

The video was playing again, and again and again. It was on repeat and it was impossible to argue against the fact that Barnes was more than involved. Barnes had done something with the cooperation of Loki.

How Loki got out was a mystery, the possible evidence linking that to Barnes was completely destroyed and no trace was left. Nothing was there that would or could indicate that Barnes that allowed Loki to escape.

“I didn’t know, Tony.” Steve tried again, and again, Tony wasn’t hearing it.

“You saw the signs, Rogers. You saw the signs and you didn’t raise one single concern because you didn’t think Barnes would go this far.” Tony felt the blame burning him like acid.

“The kid came to me. Y/N came to me and she talked to me about Barnes. She told me that Barnes had been watching her, and it was making her uncomfortable. She wanted to switch her internship to another avenger.” Tony sank back down into the chair behind the desk.

He tapped his fingers against the screen and the video from his office just hours before your disappearance played. He couldn’t watch, or he wouldn’t watch.

“Tony if I would’ve known-“ Tony cut Steve off by playing the clip of you and Barnes, the audio reverberating in the room.

“Barnes and Loki did something. And now…now the kid is gone. I don’t know where he took her, where Loki sent them.” The tension in the room was high, the uncertainty.

“Strange looked through every known timeline possible and there is no sign of Bucky or Y/N.” Nat spoke calmly, despite the building tension between Tony and Steve.

“Danvers has searched every known universe closest to is and there’s no luck.” The news was not a shock to Tony, but it was disappointing.

“Thor went to track down Loki, but without him or the tesseract, we might not find them for a while.” Tony hated to ask, but he had to.

“How long do we figure?” He was afraid of the answer, afraid of the possibility that the answer would be never.

“Tony do you really-”

“Tell me, Romanov.” He needed to know.

“To find the right timeline alone could take two years. To find them in whatever hole Loki hid them in could take an additional 4.” The odds were not in their favor, fate was not on their side.

“Shit…” 6 years, if they were lucky. “Shit, shit, shit…”

—

1951- Brooklyn, New York

Bucky stared at the little piece of heaven in front of him with a wide, proud smile on his face. This is what the American dream was all about, what his dream was all about.

The white picket fence that surrounded the larger than average house that he, that you both owned, was just the start of his happiness.

Beyond the white picket fence was the picturesque house with a wrap around porch that he knew you loved, knew you always wanted. On the porch near the front door was a porch swing with brightly decorated pillows and a worn blanket that you would never, ever get rid of despite the holes and rips.

The front screen door was painted red, a project of yours last year to sate your boredom and stroke your curiosity. As Bucky stood and watched his dream unfold before his very eyes, he was not quick to forget what he had to do to get here.

He had turned his back on the people who helped fix and repair everything Hydra had done. He turned his back on his best childhood friend, Steve Grant Rogers. He committed multiple felonies that would see him in a high security prison hidden away from the world and you.

He had risked everything for his happiness, for your happiness. He saved you, he saved himself. And now, by his hand, by Loki’s, the two of you would have your American dream.

Bucky urged himself forward, urged himself to walk through the gate surrounding and protecting your yard. He took the steps two at a time and before entering the house, he tapped the pocket of his black suit pants, making sure the little diamond number he got you was still inside.

After he was reassured, Bucky opened the screen and the front door and slipped inside. He took off his black shoes and set them in the front closet before hanging his jacket.

“Hey sweetheart!” he called out for you and made his way down the small hall to the adjacent kitchen on the left.

He leaned on the doorframe and watched you with his arms crossed over his chest. The fine blue gingham dress you wore was a rather noticeable contrast to your personal style from the original universe you both have been ripped from, but Bucky was no less attracted to you now, as he was then.

The blue gingham dress you chose today had fallen to just below you knees, and while the cut of the waist and bust was tight, the skirt hid some of the many features that drove Bucky wild. Your soft thighs and the curve of your ass was hidden behind layers of material and the underskirt, and that fit the times.

The smooth skin and soft features that remained hidden by clothes were for his eyes only. In the privacy of your bedroom, Bucky would and could rip every single layer of clothing from your body and leave you bare for him, naked for his eyes. And his hands. And his tongue. And his cock.

“Sweetheart.” Bucky cleared his throat and drew your attention.

You jumped and spun on your kitten heels, nestling tumbling backward as your foot got caught on a corner of a cupboard.

As you caught yourself and right yourself, Bucky chuckled under his breath as he stepped inside the pastel colored kitchen, slow moving as not to scare you further. Your hand on your chest, was clutching a string of pearls, his gift to you on the anniversary of your first ‘date’.

“James Buchanan Barnes!” Your nose scrunched as you scolded him with half an effort, eyed narrowed slightly. “You scared the soul out of me!”

His laughter continued as he closed the distance between you two. He pulled you into his embrace, wrapping his metal arm tightly around your waist in a show of possession, his right hand resting on the back of your neck.

“I’m sorry doll, thought you heard me.” He whispered into your hair.

Bucky had sacrificed so much in his life, he had been through an insurmountable amount of torment, torture and pain. He had so much hope and life, opportunity stripped from him as he was turned into a weapon of mass assassination.

The things he was forced to do by the hands of Hydra, the past he couldn’t possibly forget or run away from, would not take away from this moment. It would not steal the love, the irrevocable, the heart stopping, hand shaking and breath stealing love he felt. For you and you alone.

You were the perfect woman that he needed, he deserved. He would do absolutely everything and anything for you; give you anything your heart desired.

You were his morning, noon and night. You were the reason his heart beat in his chest, the reason he woke up every morning.

They wouldn’t understand, the other avengers. They wouldn’t understand why Bucky did this, why he saw no other option to grasp the happiness he deserved for all the sacrifice he made. None of them knew what it felt like to be so completely devoted to another person, to have their entire existence revolved on the one they couldn’t be without.

“No!” you playfully smacked his chest and pushed him away only slightly. “You are such a dolt.”

Bucky grinned and slid his hand down your back to the curve of your hidden backside. He couldn’t get enough of you, couldn’t get enough of your beautiful sensuality. He wanted to keep his hands on you all day everyday.

“A dolt am I?” he squeezed your ass cheek with one hand as he stepped flush against you.

He trapped you between the kitchen counter and his body. He kept a handful of your ass cheek, while his other hand snaked under your dress to cup your covered pussy.

“Bucky…” You shivered and shuddered, your legs spreading without you even having to pause and think.

“Yes baby?” He whispered hotly in your ear.

“Bucky…” he pushed his finger against the crotch of your panties, rubbing your swollen pussy lips through the silky material.

“Do I make you feel good, baby?” His voice shook with raging lust. “Do you like the way my finger feels on your swollen pussy lips?”

Your soft whimpers, you push back against his hand had told him everything he needed to know. It didn’t matter if you were completely oblivious to the dark desire Bucky had for you, or if you could feel it in some part of you, the result was the same.

You would gush and cum all over his fingers, you would writhe and scream his name as he fucked you with his fingers, his cock, his tongue. You wanted him as much as he wanted you.

“I have a surprise for you, doll.” Bucky nipped your ear lobe. “I have something I want you to wear for me.”

Bucky removed his hand from your ass. He shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out the long black velvet box and set it on the counter if front of you. Inside the box was a choker necklace thick and heavy with large diamonds, and while you may have seen the jewelry as unnecessary, Bucky thought of it as both a stake of his claim, and a way to show you just how well you had it with him.

“Bucky you didn’t need to.” You protest your need for so much jewelry, but in the end you took it to keep him happy.

“I wanted to. My princess deserves the best.” Bucky gripped your silk under in his hand and ripped the material free from in between your legs.

“I’m not a princess Buck-“ Your voice gave way to a pleasurable gasp.

Bucky had maneuvered himself in a way that he was able to free his hard, twitching cock. He ground the head of his cock against your dripping heat, your slick coating his swollen tip. He nipped the crook of your neck before he ran his tongue over your flesh, soothing the red mark which would turn to a bruise.

“You’re my wife Y/N, my princess.” Bucky sank his throbbing cock into your waiting heat, nearly groaning into your hair as your tight pussy walls squeezed him.

“You’re so tight.” He moved his hands to your hips, yanking your ass flush against him as he fucked you from behind. “God damn, you’re tight.”

You couldn’t speak as he fucked you in the kitchen, in front of the window. It was a bold move for you, but for Bucky it was all apart of his obsession; his possessiveness.

He was fucking you in broad daylight, anyone could see if they walked past the kitchen window. Anyone could see the war-hero screwing his wife, his beautiful and breathtaking wife. Anyone could see your head thrown back, they could hear your moans of pleasure, hear you screaming his name.

“Doll,” Bucky grunt as he pushed you down gently, “I’m going to fuck a baby into you.”

Your walls squeezed his cock, your breath hitched. “You want that don’t you? You want me to fuck a baby into you?”

Bucky grit his teeth, he pulled his hard cock out of you and slammed it back in. He moved his left hand from your hip to your clit, his metal fingers pinching and pulling on your sensitive nub.

“Yes, Bucky!” You arched your back, jerked your hips toward him. “God, yes. It feels so…God!”

He leaned forward, his chest flush against your back. He kissed your jaw bone as he felt his orgasm rushing to meet yours. Soon, he would fill you with his seed.

“Cum on my cock, sweetheart.” When he heard your strangled shriek, your strangled and garbled scream, his name falling in pieces from your lips, Bucky felt complete.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He slammed his cock into you again. “You’re going to look perfect carrying my child.”

He bit down on your shoulder as his hot, thick seed shot out from the head of his cock, filling you eager and drenched pussy. It would take, he was sure of it. His seed would take and you would be pregnant.

“Bucky,” you shuddered, your energy spent, “I love you.”

The three little words that you had uttered time and time again, over and over, had not lost their value. In this moment, as he stood behind you, his cum dripping from your filled cunt, your legs shaking, he felt the true weight of those words.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Bucky ran his hand down your back, down the curve of your ass.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, Y/N.” He helped you stand, helped fix the buttons of your dress.

“I made a mess.” Heat rose to your cheeks, your eyes still widened slightly from the pleasure.

“I love your messes.” Bucky swept you into a loving kiss, a tender embrace after all the fucking.

This was his happiness. This was his dream. This is what James Buchanan Barnes, war-hero and famous sergeant of the 107th, deserved.

He deserved you. He deserved a happy marriage. He deserved a family.

And he had all but one.


End file.
